“I owed your father my life,” Vance whispered, his voice fading. “I came to warn you, but their hounds caught me on the fire escape. You have maybe three minutes before they breach this floor.”

“Where do I go?” I asked, my hands shaking as I took the weapon. I was an accountant, not a spy.

“The charity you donated to…” Vance smiled grimly. “Check the board of directors. The names are aliases. It’s an underground network your parents set up. You just fully funded your own private army.”

The sound of heavy boots echoed from the hallway outside my apartment. The elevator chimed.

I looked at the blood on my floor, the gun in my hand, and the heavy door separating me from the people who erased my family. I had spent seventeen years living in fear of a curse. Now, it was time to become one.